Once in a Blue Agave Moon Cyberterrorism: Chapter 36

Cyber terrorism: Part Two

Stuxnet set the stage for all world-class cyberterrorism that was to follow.

Although not the only efforts being attempted at the time by other nations, Stuxnet raised the bar to a newer, higher level in ways not previously imagined.

It made its first appearances in 2010, allegedly hatched by the United States and Israel, with “lawyer’s fingerprints” all over it” it specifically attacked Siemens System Seven programs designed to provide control of everything from assembly line operations to the speed at which Iranian centrifuges operated during their uranium enrichment program, its intended target.

It was effectively the great-grandaddy of the Armageddon Virus that brought the Western Banking System to it’s knees, then decapitated it by essentially making all the virtual money which we had been spending for decades unavailable because there were no more records of it and no way to corroborate who had what.

Other than paper money (which in and of itself is essentially worthless), few banks even bothered to keep any real wealth within their ubiquitous safes, and their transactions were essentially virtual.

In a related, but separate series of plots, the day before the release of the virus, other terrorists had spent the last fifteen years slowly and carefully tunneling under the Federal Reserve Banks and almost simultaneously exploded a combination of stolen and makeshift “dirty” thermonuclear devices underneath them so as to make the gold and silver reserves dangerous and unusable for thousands of years, creating a general panic and the worst run on the banks since the Great Depression.

It’s hard to remember that the money in all the Federal Reserve Banks only amounts to less then twenty percent of the GDP, but the mindset of the general public was not such that they could be placated, and riots ensued.

What no one knew, was that the Armageddon Virus had interrupted what would have been the most sinister plot ever dreamed up to make puppets of all but the most connected and wealthy without even creating so much as a ripple of controversy.

Curiously, it began with insurance actuarials, which could accurately predict with alarming accuracy how long you will live and what will probably kill you, based upon the records they kept, so as to assess the level of risk that you represented to an insuror.

Then came genome testing, which assessed the effects of your DNA upon your health and predicted lifespan.

With the advent of the COVID-19 virus pandemic came the practice of tracing and tracking not only your vital signs, but with whom you had been in contact by way of Smartwatches Fitbits, and social media applications.

In the name of safety, people will give away all manner of Privacy, Liberty, and Freedom.

Credit reporting agencies, police files and permanent school records rounded out a picture that could be used to predict the most likely outcomes of your life.

In fact, the Armageddon Virus utilized, and even began setting up phony credit improvement apps and agencies to gain control of the world’s finances.

The six richest people in the entire world owned ninety percent of all of the wealth of the world, and each year, the disparity of the distribution increased.

It was not by accident.

Given the opportunity to decide who got selected to go to the most prestigious schools, or offered the most lucrative careers, bank loans, or investment opportunities, it was only a matter of time before those entrusted to make those decisions had the data they desired to minimize their risks before the applications were even filled out.

It was not necessary to use mind control or some kind of external force to control the population in order to determine the outcomes.

What this does not account for is physical attractiveness, individual self-determination, ambition, independent thinking, creativity or even personality; however, the longer that the program was in use, and the more widespread it became, the less likely it would be for anyone to break free of the predictions made for their future because it became a self-fulfilling prophesy.

Then suddenly, Chaos had stepped in to level the field.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 12th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

PS: This is probably out of sequence for the final story, but I thought to add it now.

“Sayonara Tsukimono Suji No Kimi”… さようなら私の最愛の白い魔女 (Goodbye my beloved white witch)

Unclaimed Baggage

 

 

As the object of my affection,

You taught me the meaning

of loneliness

in ways I could never have

learned alone.

 

 

Like unclaimed baggage

in an airport carousel

endlessly going in circles

to nowhere in particular,

without validation or

recognition,

my final destination

unknown,

I await the hand that

never comes to claim me,

until only I remain.

 

 

For all the years

that I‘ve carried your burdens

while hoping you’d recover,

believing that only in completing you

could I ever be complete myself,

you now mistaken

the baggage for the burden.

 

 

“Who is dragging this corpse around?”

I scream.

“What have you done with my goddess again?”

I implore to the echoes

of the deafening silence…

 

 

“Sayonara Tsukimono Suji No Kimi”…

さようなら私の最愛の白い魔女

(Goodbye my beloved white witch)

whispers the wind in my ear.

 

 

As the echoes return

I find the answer.

“Fish swim with the tides

into and out of

the lagoon.”

 

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/11/2020

THIS IS A STORY OF UNREQUITED LOVE, SELF-DOUBT, LONELINESS, AND SEEMING DESPAIR, BUT IF YOU READ THE ENDING VERY CAREFULLY, YOU WILL SEE THAT THE ANSWER COMES NOT FROM THE ACTORS, BUT FROM THE TRUTH OF EVERYDAY LIFE.

…THE SAME AS IT EVER WAS….

“Enlightenment is not the Eternal Kiss of True Love”

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon; ch. 35

The Knowledge of Good and Evil

As the shadows began to lengthen, the sun no longer shone straight down into the center court. As the intensity of the light under the canopy of the hanging gardens began to lessen, it was quite obvious that everyone was beginning to really see the visual effects that Aimée had so meticulously described earlier in the day.

But the visual effects were pale in comparison to the mental, psychological, and emotional products of this drug.

Complex relationships between empirical data and research, theories, philosophy, and every single anecdotal experience that you may have thought was long forgotten suddenly seemed to be interconnected in ways you could not possibly assimilate or anticipate in ten lifetimes.

That is because The Knowledge had a reputation for restoring long-buried engrams and their neurological connections in a way that had been described as ‘Re-booting your Table of Contents.’

In a computer, if the Table of Contents becomes corrupted it becomes virtually impossible to access the information stored there, rendering it useless.

Human brains, on the other hand, have an ability to interpolate and draw conclusions or cross-reference data (experience) in ways not commonly possible with most computers.

But it is somewhat random or haphazard insofar as the thinker may perceive a commonality between two seemingly unrelated subjects or experiences, or simple facts that would not have been identified as being related, but with the assistance of The Knowledge, everything becomes connected.

The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle is based upon the concept that, for instance, by simply observing, or measuring a phenomenon, it becomes altered by the observer.

It is also further postulated that the observer may interject prejudgements or may be unable to discern the difference between allegedly causal relationships and mere synchronicity, i.e. ‘after this, therefore because of this’ or in Latin ‘Sic hoc ergo propter hoc.’

And although in purely analytical and empirical terms, this is a distinct danger, it has the potential to also account for creativity and insight to which virtually all computers (at this time) are incapable.

Courtesy of The Knowledge, your ability to access everything and anything that you have either experienced or learned and connect the dots by inferring or assuming the commonality between seemingly unrelated data represents a quantum leap in human intelligence not normally possible via computers.

All neurological impulses are governed and transmitted by neurotransmission and neuromodulator chemicals, most notably acetylcholine and acetylcholinesterase.

In addition serotonin, glutamate, GABA, dopamine, and norepinephrine are linked to the thought process, anxiety, depression, and even relaxation.

Additionally, neuropeptides are responsible for regulating brain activity, including analgesia, reward, food intake, metabolism, reproduction, social behaviors, learning and memory, as well as emotional responses.

The chemist responsible for discovering the effects of what was to become called The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was developing a next-generation antidepressant when he noticed some intriguing properties of one of the bi-products of its synthesis.

Since it was considered to be a waste product, his access to large quantities of it went completely unnoticed by the manufacturer.

After additional research and fine-tuning, several analogs and numerous isomers later, The Knowledge (the short nickname) was perfected.

A threshold dose was approximately one hundred micrograms. Within eighteen months, its creator had produced enough of it to dose the entire world daily for over one hundred years.

Since it was clear that the government would undoubtedly declare it to be a schedule one controlled substance, like LSD, MDMA, psilocybin, et al,

he decided to hide it on the grounds of a New-Age religious group called The Home for Wayward Souls, of which he was a founding member.

Between the legal complications of protection of religious freedoms and a very thorough screening process of anyone being considered to receive it, even rumors of the existence of the drug were kept to a minimum.

Regardless, even if the DEA had known what they were looking for, it is doubtful that they could ever find it, given the extensive grounds and outbuildings that comprised the entire complex, often called The Sanctuary.

Then came the Armageddon Virus…and no more DEA, FBI, or CIA. 

Jed and his accomplices (aka: The Three Winds) had become semi-regular attendees at The Sanctuary and courtesy of his preternatural talents for barter, had acquired a considerable quantity (“Just in case…”).

Neither Merle, nor Ash would ever sell any of it, but they had a great respect for Jed and his entourage, and wanted to allow them the opportunity to help make the world a better place, which they all believed themselves to be doing.

So there they were, perched on the edge of a precipice of truly mind-boggling proportions in every direction.

Would they confirm their hopes that this was to be a positive, creative, and profitable enterprise for all parties concerned?

The unexpected chemistry between Chianna and Jed had altered their original paradigm, where it was believed that Chianna would prove to be the wild-card as far as liking and accepting everyone else, as well as their modus operandi (and history). 

Now, there was little doubt that she and Jed would be exploring any number of possibilities, but the long-term compatibilities would take time before they could be determined.

Everyone else had already experienced the push-pull, or waxing and waning of their mutual infatuations long ago. 

Although she had proven to be an unexpectedly different sort of wild card, they wondered if Elliott would be the one having to deal with jealousy issues.

A week ago, they would have all said “Never! It’s not in his programming to be jealous.” but that seemed like a very long time ago now.

And although Elliott seemed to be cautious or guarded in terms of expressing his emotions regarding the three women who had once been lovers in past times, he was surprisingly good-natured about Chiana’s behavior with Jed.

“Wise move, Elliott” was all Leigh-Ann would allow herself to even think; she alone was the one guided more by reason than emotion, and she was definitely keeping her cards close to her chest. 

“You gotta give action if you want to get action.”

Most of all, it was Leigh-Anne who seemed to enjoy how Elliott was struggling with knowing what it was like for the glove to be on the other hand. Although he often suffered most from the poor choices he had made, he could be one smug bastard, or so he made it appear.

“You will learn from this, and in the process, your character will be defined in ways you cannot yet imagine…I just hope it doesn’t break your heart the way you did ours.”

The next twenty-four hours would probably see the answers to all these questions revealed.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 12th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

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Once in a Blue Agave Moon: Chapter 34

The Garden, the Serpent, and Eve…

Chianna was very proud of their garden. Although it was an unending work in progress, it was beautiful, lush, and soothing.

Elliott had defined the outer boundaries with rough-hewn upright timbers buried three feet in the earth surrounded by broken coral rock or concrete that had to be brought in as it became available while foraging, or through barter, with cement poured in around the voids to create substantial footers to support the cross-beams.

Those cross-beams supported all manner of hanging plants ranging from air plants to orchids and several varieties of ivy and climbing vines, with the plants that required the most sunlight arranged higher than the others, so as to provide shelter for the more sensitive plants as well as to provide welcome shade in several areas for flowers, plants and bushes as well as people on the ground.

The hanging gardens were predominantly located in the corners, and around the perimeter of everything. Rose bushes, boxwood, and Florida Cherry enclosed the entire garden using trellises to support the roses and various vines and climbing plants.

In the very center, a small banyan tree had been planted.

Shelves made of salvaged lumber were constructed so as to be movable, depending upon what they were intended to provide support as new or young items were being cultivated.

Paths meandered through the area between the center and the outside perimeter so as to allow for longer walks, as well as a certain feeling of isolation as much as privacy, and you could easily wander into a small side path and remain unseen to anyone unless they were right there practically next to you.

Here and there, she had placed flagstones as either markers, or a place to sit, or stand along the paths. These are not easily located in Florida and were premium items for barter unless they traveled farther up North, but most people had no use for them, in favor of items more suited for everyday survival.

And seen in that light, it was easy to understand Elliott and Chianna’s reservations about needing much of anything. Survival was no longer on the table. 

They were comfortable, at least for now, but Nature abhors a vacuum, and Change is endemic to all life.

The whole area was probably no more than about seventy-five by one hundred feet, but once inside, it seemed much larger, yet most inviting to those who enjoyed it.

Chianna led the way to the center of the garden and the other five followed, or rather, wandered behind her. It was clear that everyone was beginning to experience the effects of The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Call it foreshadowing, or symbolism, but it was Rebel who suddenly said “You know, if I didn’t know better, I would think that I was in the Garden of Eden right now.”

Chianna came up beside Rebel as she was speaking and very slyly said “Well thank you Rebecca, I’m quite flattered to hear you say that. This has become both my sanctuary and my primary focus of my best and most creative abilities and efforts.”

“But tell me just one thing, my dear…Who is to be the Serpent, and who shall be Adam?” Chianna leaned toward Rebel as if inquiring in confidence, but it was a stage whisper intended for everyone.

“I don’t mean to sound pretentious, but it should be obvious that Elliott and Chianna are Adam and Eve…” Leigh-Anne suggested.

“After all, it’s their garden” she added.

“Which means that Jed would be The Serpent?…or am I making too much symbolism out of all this?” Chianna’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and there was a decidedly ‘psychedelic’ gleam across her face as she spoke.

If she thought that everybody didn’t already know where this was headed, she was definitely misinformed.

Jed, Leigh-Anne, Aimée, and Rebel could not have anticipated Chianna’s infatuation with Jed any more than they could have foreseen the events that had finally led them here in the first place.

Samhain (Sauin), a Blood Moon, and a Blue Moon were predicted to occur tonight in conjunction with a Total Lunar Eclipse. The number of coincidences that have to be in play for this to happen at the same time are so rare that it only occurs once in many, many years….

It was to be a Necromancer’s Honeymoon…The Witch’s Woodstock…the Apex of the Occult…

And out here, on the edge of the Everglades, you could feel the pulsations of pure energy. The animals were animated and emboldened, but no more especially aggressive than usual.

After all, the Cycle of Life never takes a holiday. One Man’s Meat… is an

other animal’s leg, or ribs…or head…(and vice-versa).

Chianna was indeed a daughter of the Moon, and had been anticipating this weekend for over a year. Although usually a very gracious hostess all by herself, since she and Rebecca had bonded over their mutual practice of Wicca, she had no fears about her own agenda being interrupted by any outsiders…

…Except for yet another agenda she was hoping to conjure with one Mr. Jedediah Drummond, and even that was already ‘in the cards,’ and would (she hoped) only be heightened by these celestial alignments, and The Knowledge…

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 12th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

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Another Modest Proposal

In accordance with the “Social Distancing” suggestions, perhaps it is time for more of us to adopt the “Namaste” gesture as a no-contact acknowledgement of each other.

I keep hearing that we may have to abandon the practice of handshaking.

I can think of no better time to recognize “The Divine” within each other.

“I bow to the Divine within you” in these ways we share, We are One.

Namaste

Chazz Vincent

04/17/2020

Dream like bondage

Two in one day? I rarely ever re-blog anything, unless it speaks to me on a ‘cellular level’ but I feel most indebted to Zen Flash (by way of Khenpo Tsultrim Rinpoche) for sharing this.
In our ability to serve as a conduit for Satsang we are blessed.
Namaste
नमस्ते
Chazz Vincent

Zen Flash

“Self-liberation” is like being bound in iron chains in a dream. If you do not know you are dreaming, your bondage appears to be real, you think it is real, and your experience seems to confirm that it is real. But if you know you are dreaming, you know that the iron chains do not truly exist, and so you are not really bound by them. The bondage does not truly exist. In the dream, nothing needs to come along and set you free – you are free just as you are. The dream experience, even though it appears to be an experience of bondage, is in fact self-liberated.

– Khenpo Tsultrim Rinpoche

With thanks to Just Dharma Quotes

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I am not a Buddhist

Lou of Zen Flash has been a frequent source of inspiration and wisdom, and this post is no exception.
When I began writing “Observations of a Recovering Buddhist,” I may have offended a few of my more devout readers, but once again, Zen Flash has managed to eloquently make a point that is usually lost on ‘those who have not had the experience’ and in so doing, illuminate the darkness.
Thank you, Lou
Namasté
नमस्ते
Chazz Vincent

Zen Flash

 

As Buddha said in the Prajnaparamita Sutra, all phenomena are like a dream and an illusion, even enlightenment is like a dream and an illusion. And if there is anything greater or grander than enlightenment, that, too, is like a dream and an illusion. His disciple, the great Nagarjuna, wrote that the Lord Buddha has not stated that after abandoning samsara there exists nirvana. The nonexistence of samsara is nirvana. A knife becomes sharp as the result of two exhaustions — the exhaustion of the whetstone and the exhaustion of the metal. In the same way, enlightenment is the result of the exhaustion of defilements and the exhaustion of the antidote of the defilements. Ultimately one must abandon the path to enlightenment. If you still define yourself as a Buddhist, you are not a buddha yet.

– Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche

from the book “What Makes You Not a…

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Once in a Blue Agave Moon: chapter 33

What Aimée didn’t know was that as her hair fanned out, it was just then that Elliott was beginning to experience the first visual effects of The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

The expansion of Time resulted in seeming to slow down everything he observed around him, like watching slow a motion replay of an explosion.

He later reflected that it seemed as if his ‘scanning rate’ had rapidly accelerated as frame by frame, everything else was being broken down into a series of smaller, yet slower intervals.

Amy’s rich chestnut hair eventually seemed to be standing straight out in all directions. The movements were so slow and minute that they were barely perceptible. Everything about her seemed to glow from within, creating an aura, like a halo that shimmered with neon highlights that slowly were being flung off of her.

“…Elliott?…hey Boss! Are you coming, or not?”

“Hell, I’m not even breathing hard. Why?”

“Be patient El…I meant are you going outside? …Whoah! You’re already getting off, aren’t you?…I can see it on your face, and in your eyes…can you walk?” Aimée chuckled and she took on an almost motherly tone.

“I hadn’t given it much thought…at least until just now when you asked. Maybe I should try to stand up to see. Would you mind spotting me?” 

Elliott winked as he offered up his forearm parallel to the floor like an elderly woman stopped at a street corner waiting for a Boy Scout to escort her across.

Elliott then began to notice that he could hear the sounds of their voices splashing off the walls, creating a delay causing time/phase/frequency comb filtering, a barely discernible metallic ring, and a deeper, more resonant thickening of her voice caused by the heterodyne of the sum and difference of the combinations of the frequencies being resonated within the room.

As they stood up together Elliott closed his eyes and smiled.

“Can you hear that? …or is that just me?” he asked.

“Our voices, or our thoughts? Be prepared to bare the depths of your soul today; to become of ‘One Mind’ is to keep no secrets.” 

Aimée paused slightly before she added “I trust you to understand that without fear…the only times that I have ever seen anyone struggle with it was because they were in denial about themselves, or their present circumstances…pretty much like acid in that respect.”

She paused again to give Elliott a moment to process the concept.

This was the first that Aimée had really engaged in such unfettered candor or even direct dialogue between them since she had arrived, and so doing, risk betraying those long-lost feelings that were bubbling up to the surface.

She remembered that years ago, when they had sought professional advice for couples therapy how much he valued unfiltered honesty.

“Right this minute, just hearing everything with new ears is taking up just about all of my attention….” Elliott’s voice trailed off as a new sensation overwhelmed his attention.

“My sense of smell…it’s quite extraordinary, really…” again his voice trailed off as he found himself raising his nose slightly as he flared his nostrils and turned his head  slowly left and right like a dog testing the air for a scent.

Then he suddenly smiled broadly as he stared into Aimée’s eyes.

“All right. I know what you’re doing…” as Aimée spoke, she reached out to touch Elliot’s face. “A penny for your thoughts right now, baby…what is it?”

Elliott closed his eyes as he spoke “I can smell your pussy! And it’s quite wonderful, really…I mean…”

“You don’t have to explain…I already knew…and I’m not embarrassed at all, because I can almost hear your thoughts. It may take awhile to get used to it, and to learn to trust your instincts, and to act upon your intuition.”

A flood of very happy memories flashed between them in an instant as Elliott opened his eyes to stare directly into Aimée’s hazel eyes as a tear ran down her face.

It was like a high-speed photomontage of long-forgotten memories of days long gone.

“What’s up, Doc?” Rebel whispered into Elliott’s ear.

As he turned to face her, he realized she was across the room, sitting in a chair, smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He could even hear her purr, in fact.

“If you try, I’d be willing to bet that you can also smell my cooter from way over there…recognize it?” (Rebel had this way of turning her face slightly downwards as she looked up at you smiling slyly and slightly wickedly.)

“As best I can recollect, you really enjoyed that more than most…but then again, we all thought you were part hound dog in more ways than one” she drawled so slowly he thought he might forget what she ways saying before she got to the end of the sentence if her eyes and thoughts hadn’t already delivered the message in an instant.

And she was rarely ever misunderstood.

“Time to get moving to the garden, boys and girls. I think we can all really benefit from the change of atmosphere.” Leigh-Anne was clearly the designated den-mother of these, her cubs…at least for now.

As Elliott turned to go to the door, he suddenly noticed the beatific expression on Chianna’s face as she stared into Jed’s eyes.

“Well I can see that there’s no point in trying to keep any secrets around here today…not that there ever was in the first place,” he mused.

It would be wrong to try to deny that he didn’t feel a pang, or maybe even a pinch, a twinge, perhaps, but it wasn’t jealousy; it was more of an exhilaration, like the drop on a roller coaster, a very fast elevator, or a small private plane, followed by a strange sadness he hadn’t really anticipated, and couldn’t really explain.

He had always maintained that it was in moments like this that he learned his most valuable lessons about his true feelings, and also when he felt most alive.

He was often known for saying “Don’t get me wrong…it’s not that I don’t care… it’s just that I don’t mind.” but most outsiders had no clue as to what he really meant by that, although it was really said for the benefit of those who already knew.

To those who did, he also often said “Call it whatever you want, but whatever it is that I feel in that one clear moment I know just exactly how deeply I love you, how much I really want you, and how much I want to encourage you to pursue all of your desires with my blessing.”

And he had said it surprisingly often.

Elliott now found himself surrounded by a phalanx of women leading him to the garden as his eyes met Chianna’s. He watched her face betray first a slightly guilty embarrassment, and then that same twinge that he had just experienced watching her, followed the most beautifully knowing smile of Moksha by way of Satsang.

“Just like the old days…right, ‘Doc’?” Elliott suddenly realized that he had just heard her thoughts, but it was definitely Chianna’s voice he was hearing, despite the fact that her lips never moved as she winked at him.

One Mind indeed.

“And things just keep getting curiouser and curiouser.”

Namaste

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 12th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

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Once in a Blue Agave Moon: CH 32

Jed was next to offer a few suggestions regarding comfort for the duration of the experience.

“Being not at all concerned for any sort of modesty, you may still find that for the sake of your physical comfort you may want to try these robes…or not.”

“The point is that in case you’re inclined to want to sit on something, but would prefer a layer of cloth, or similar materials between your junk and with whatever you’re about to come in contact.” 

“Also protection from sun, rain wind, or even drafts helps keep you focused on the business at hand without diverting your attention about what to do.”

Next, Rebel offered her take on the robes.

“It’s got a hood if you need it, and it can be worn tied at the neck and draped over your shoulders like a cape, but the sleeves are short enough to stay out of your way and not get dragged through whatever you try to touch.”

”The first time I tried The Knowledge, I got way too distracted with details that could have been avoided if we had planned better, and this doesn’t have to get in the way…of anything, if you catch my drift…” she winked and showed just the slightest hint of a smile, bordering on a smirk as she slowly pirouetted just fast enough to flash everybody.

(Funny thing…once you are naked, there is no striptease, no innuendo, or lasciviousness that can match what even a little clothing can provide.)

Leigh-Anne added “I was the one charged with assessing our need for other preparations that might need to be anticipated, related to the living space and environment for today, and honestly I can’t imagine any scenario that you’re not already prepared for…true to form, the Leopard isn’t likely to change his spots, so kudos to Elliott for being the perfect host, because I would say we can all relax and just enjoy the journey.”

Then she added “Given the early hour of the day, I would suggest that we go outside for the onset of effects; I believe that I noticed a small garden within your compound, right? The softer, subtler hues are more noticeable in indirect light, and some images may be almost too intense in total darkness for your first experience.” 

Leigh-Ann’s demeanor was a mixture of clinician and compassionate friend. Back in the day, she and Elliott were the ones everybody went to for help, or to ‘fix things’ if something started to go sideways, or they needed advice.

“Oh yeah…you may want to sit down for this one, ‘Doc’….”

Aimée took a big breath and turned her head ever so slightly before looking Elliott very directly in the eyes. The others were involved in some other discussion, and Chianna and Jed were pretty much oblivious of everyone else.

“You, Jed, Leigh-Annn and I are the only ones that would attach any meaning to any of this, but, well, one of the spirit guides that you will probably meet calls herself ‘Betty’ and often lapses into ‘Boop-Oopa-Doop!’ during her utterances, but although she frequently appears in the form of a giant Amazon Macaw, she has also upon occasion morphed into that old thirties-era cartoon character Betty Boop….”

“Now I’d bet just about the whole farm that we’ve both already got somebody in particular in mind, considering the fact that she always featured Betty Boop as her alter ego…”

“Especially on stage…” Elliott suddenly realized that the air in his lungs was most conspicuous in its absence, as he slowly began to sit up very straight.

“Well, the last time that we went to down to The Home for Wayward Souls, and took The Knowledge, ‘Betty’ came up to Leigh-Ann and me and introduced herself as ‘April Tremski’….”

With that, the phrase ‘Singularity of Time and Space’ shot through Elliott’s brain like an arrow, although he would have been hard-pressed to explain its relevance as a very large tear ran down his face.

Then he gasped.

Neither he nor April ever realized anything remotely approaching the success musically that they had shared as they did after they went their separate ways.

April on keyboards or strings, or directing the singers, and Elliott on guitar, bass, percussion, an editing table, or a mixing console, they had long ago lost track of how many bands they had performed in together.

There was no One without The Two.

She had been the wife of one of Elliott’s best friends when they both taught at Miami-Dade Community College. They started experimenting with a few relatively new musical genres at several parties that her husband Michael had thrown.

This was shortly before Michael and April separated, then divorced.

Shortly after that, Elliott and April began experimenting at just about everything that came their way, be it Human Sexuality, Music, and Visual Arts; back before they called it Polyamory, they all could have been the model for a TV show called “Friends…with Benefits.”

(This put a severe strain on Elliott’s friendship with Michael, however.) 

Then Elliott met Aimée.

They fell deeply in love and he left wife number two, and Amy’s husband left their apartment right before Elliott moved in with Aimée.

Then he, Aimée and his other best friend, Joe (who was also on the faculty at MDCC), found a house large enough to also accommodate a small recording studio.

Shortly after moving in together, their arguments and fights became surpassed only by their lovemaking for passion, and intensity, bordering (usually) on violence (only occasionally, and essentially accidentally), until it became Madness.

After about six months Aimée moved out of Elliott and Joe’s place and into ‘Linoleum Flats’ as she called it. (“…A little Piece of the Ghetto, right here in Miami Shores…”).

Yet curiously, their love affair blossomed and flourished again for another four years after she moved out, but eventually, she left for the Pacific Northwest, only to return once more before disappearing again.

She wrote to him twice, but he never replied, despite missing her terribly and intending to write her back.

(And he just might have, if he hadn’t lost the address during one of his ill-fated, unplanned, unprepared moves that he kept having to make.)

Meanwhile, April practically lived with Elliott at the studio when they were working together, which was virtually all the time. They rehearsed two different bands they had formed on alternate nights if the studio wasn’t already booked.

Eventually, Elliott moved the recording studio that he had built into his home up to West Hollywood, and decided to live in a twelve by fourteen storage room in the back of a shotgun duplex in a run-down strip mall between a massage parlor and a topless bar.

Music and Multi-Media took priority over every other aspect of Elliott’s life, so as long as April made sure that there was always another project, another soundtrack, another commercial jingle, another concert, she would always be there with him…(and the sex was fantastic).

Then Elliott met future ex-wife number three.

In less than two years, Elliott was forced to go out of business.

A year after that, number three was dead from a drug-related accident.

In less than five years, April was dead from cancer.

Aimée reached out to touch Elliott’s face. On a certain level, they all had been rivals, even though they all loved and respected each other. Nothing in their lives after that was ever the same, because they no longer shared each other’s common interests in the same way, with the same singularity of purpose.

And yet, here they were, once again banded together with a very singular purpose and motive.

The idea of an opportunity to even witness April’s spirit…to commune with her, maybe even make amends…was that even possible?

“The quickest way to get sucked right back into the mess you just left or another one just like it is to leave behind any serious unresolved karma…” (Aimée knew what it was like to try to hold Elliott’s fickle attentions.)

“Remember the first time that you told me that, Boss? And now we begin again…”

Elliott could only shake his head affirmatively; (he had promised himself that he would try not to weep openly today.)

“We all left a couple lifetimes of unfinished business back then, and most people don’t get the chance for a retake to edit our karma, but this was meant to be…just like last time…think about it…the world almost ended, but now we have a second chance to become major players in the new order of things.”

“This may the chance for all of us to set things right…to take the other road this time, and see where it leads us…with full knowledge and hindsight…maybe this time nobody has to get hurt….” Aimée bit her bottom lip.

There are several times in our lives where we are privileged to experience a group mentality that crosses over our relationships with others, whether they be family, friends, or lovers.

At times it even displaces the others, at least for some significant period of time.

In the military, it can be your ‘battle buddies’; or in high school, it can be your team, your club, or a committee.

An athlete may experience the same kind of bond with their teammates.

A band is the ultimate surrogate family, which is inevitable, but unfortunate, because most musicians come from damaged families, and continue to have disastrous romantic relationships, because so many of them are romance whores.

There is a common mind devoted to a common purpose that unites them, often shaping their decisions and opinions.

You know you are in the midst of it when you realize that together you are involved in something much greater than the mere sum of the individual parts. Everything that you do has an effect on the other members of the group, the band, the family, the team, or the gang, and the choices you make inevitably take them into account…or at least until it doesn’t anymore.

It won’t be until years later, if ever, that you really come to terms with what you lost when you walked away.

That may have been what had left all of them strangely confused afterward, because it would be doubtful that any one of them could have told anyone else what their common purpose was.

Oddly enough, although it would be hard to figure out what had drawn them together in the first place (other than past-life karma), but now, years later, their present-life karma had brought them back together again.

They definitely knew what it was like to be a team, and already even before Elliott came back into the picture, they had become “battle buddies” with a formidable reputation.

Would they be able to function again as a family?

“I move we adjourn this meeting to go out into the garden…I don’t know about y’all…but I’m already starting to see some shit I’d be more comfortable dealing with together.” Rebel was as direct as she was charming when she wanted to be.

“I second the motion” was all Leigh-Ann had to offer as she rose to go to the door.

“Things just keep getting curiouser and curiouser….” Aimée shook her head slightly as she spoke, and then wildly afterward, throwing her shoulder-length hair first clockwise, then counter-clockwise, fanning out around her shoulders. She knew he would recognize the quote from Lewis Carroll.

Indeed. 

Namaste

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

copyright  ©  March 12th, 2021  

Fish swim with the tides, in and out of the lagoon as it empties itself, receives from, and flows back into the sea.

*ALL REFERENCES TO ANY PERSONS CONFIRMED STILL LIVING IS PURELY CO-INCIDENTAL…AND THE DEAD ARE TOO BUSY LAUGHING AT US TO CARE.

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